Bathing the Master
by JRDragonfly
Summary: Blessed with his father's last name and heritage, Ramsey feels like he needs a proper bath to make him feel more like the Lord he intends to be. Good thing Reek is more than willing to help him out. -One shot-


The rag slides over his back with a steady, yet gentle motion. The water is still warm. It trickles down his skin and joins the rest around his nakedness. He lets out a sigh, and the one bathing him pauses hesitantly, the rag just touching his left shoulder blade, then he resumes.

"Reek," Ramsey says after a long moment of no sound apart from the crackling fireplace, and the dripping and subtle sloshing of water.

Reek does not speak, but continues to bathe his master. He dips the rag beneath the warm water right at Ramsey's buttock and holds it under to soak, then squeezes it out and begins to carefully cleanse his shoulders and the back of his neck.

Ramsey sighs, his eyes closing. He leans back in the tub so that his back is against the rim. Reek shifts and kneels again at his master's side, lifting the rag and presses it firmly against Ramsey's dirty chest.

"Am I filthy, Reek?" Ramsey asks, his eyes still closed.

Reek guides the rag up Ramsey's chest and very delicately begins to wash his collar-bone, then his throat. Despite his name being spoken in question, Reek does not feel it is his right to speak just yet.

Ramsey is not offended. He enjoys the company, and the silence it keeps.

"I am a real Bolton, now, Reek," he says dreamily. He rests his arms on the rim of the tub. Water drips from his fingers and taps against the cold stone floor. "Do you know why that is?"

"No, my Lord," Reek answers.

"Because of you."

Ramsey opens his sharp blue eyes and Reek meets them with his own splintered gaze and cannot look away. The rag hands from white-limp fingers just above Ramsey's right knee. Reek twitches once, a whipped-dog jerk of the head. Ramsey's eyes are ablaze with an odd orange light from the fireplace. His expression hints at intensity.

"Forgive me, my Lord," Reek mutters, dropping his head. He soaks his clothes reaching beneath the water to wash Ramsey's toes.

Ramsey sits up and snatches Reek's wrist while it's still underwater. Reek freezes, eyes wide.

"It's a good thing, Reek," Ramsey tells him in a sickly sweet voice. "_A good thing_," he repeats. "You've done such a good job. I'm very proud of you, Reek."

Reek swallows and stares at the water.

Ramsey squeezes his wrist.

"Look at me."

Reek turns his head and meets his master's eye.

"Say thank you," Ramsey orders.

"Thank you, my Lord," Reek spouts immediately, twitching.

"You're welcome, Reek," Ramsey says, nodding once. A smile slips across his lips. He lets go of his bather.

Reek pulls out of the water and stands still, water running from his arm to his waist and wetting his clothing.

Ramsey rolls over in the tub and grasps the edge with his hands. He presses his cheek to the coolness of the side.

"Do my back again," he says quietly.

Reek gulps down a mouthful of stuttering air and steps forward. The rag fills once more with warm water. He starts at Ramsey's neck and glides down, stopping just before his buttock, and goes back up.

"I'm dirty there, too, Reek," Ramsey says. He stares at the tub as if by concentrating he may be able to see Reek's face. His breathing grows shallow and his face feels warm, despite half of it being against the tub's cold iron side. His fingers grip the edge tightly, waiting for Reek to respond, for he has paused in his bathing.

"I need every part of me cleansed to impress my father. He_ is _the Warden of the entire North, you know. One day his North will be mine."

Reek presses the rag to Ramsey's left buttocks.

Ramsey shudders involuntarily and closes his eyes.

"Yes, Reek," Ramsey hisses, his stomach clenching as the rag slides down across his buttocks and tickles his inner thigh. "Make sure I'm good and clean."

The fireplace continues to crackle and snap, casting fluttering shadows across the bathing room. Water drips dilligently to the floor and back into the water, as gravity commands it.

The dutiful servant washes Ramsey as he is instructed, and the hour grows late. The fire dies down.

The water gradually grows cold, and is left abandoned in the tub as master and servant dress and retire for the night.

The embers are left to smolder.


End file.
